Two Years
by duo7700
Summary: Danny and Dash reminisce about events that occurred years previously. Sequel to "The Way of van Gogh" and companion to "January". Danny POV. Like the others, AU and OOC. And, to make sure you remember, I'll ask of you to: Read and Review.


I am so tired. First, this guy named Technus attacked an electronics expo, possessing everything that beeped or had a circuit board. By the time I had dismantled technological monstrosity, it was already noon. Four hours to defeat some ghost with an obsession for drawn out monologues. If he would just shut up, I wouldn't have this headache, which I didn't even know I could get anymore. Then, this dude in battle armor attacked me, talking about how he hadn't hunted anything that had committed suicide on this day who was 14 at the time they died. This Skulker guy was a little obsessive. I can't say anything, I suppose. If there is anything I have learned about ghosts, it is that we do obsess. Personally, I obsess over righting wrongs and family.

I actually don't live in the ghost zone, unlike most ghosts. My home there was nothing more than a cruel joke. I stay in my sister's house, which is a little less than a mile from my childhood home. My sister's home resides across the street from the Manson's house, though, it is of course not as well furnished. A bank had foreclosed upon it a year before she bought it. The previous tenants tore it to shreds, with drywall needless broken apart and the porcelain shattered and strewn across the house's mahogany floors, leaving deep scratches. The copper wiring was unceremoniously ripped out of the walls. I practically rebuilt the house for her as she began her college coursework. Look at me rambling on in my head. I need to rest, mentally and physically.

Emotions, however, will not allow me to rest, least of all on this day. Still, the bleachers of the high school look very inviting.

I drift down onto the third row of the bleachers and ponder my emotions, the same emotions I have felt since I died. The same emotions that grows stronger on this, the day of my death.

Has it really been that long? Time seems to pass more slowly as a ghost. I let out a whisper, "Two years..."

I was startled by a voice from behind me, "Hey, uh… Phantom." It was a familiar voice, one that hadn't spoken to me in two years. It was the voice of Dash Baxter. I turned to look at him, as his eyes met mine, he took a deep breath, which, as I recall, is extremely painful when the air is as cold as it is today. I recalled what I had heard during one of the many times I lurked around the school, "Has it been two years for you too?" I know I looked bored. I was too tired to look anything else.

"How do you know," he asked me, his soft blue eyes struggling to avoid mine.

I turned my head towards the field once more, "I hang around the school a lot. I've heard mention of it. Most of what I know comes from conversations between you and Kwan." I turned to look back at him, "It got irritating after a month."

"Neither of them wanted me…" he told me, voice beginning to crack.

I cut him off before he finished, reciting something Jazz had once told me, "They both blamed you for their marital problems. Deflection is not a healthy thing to grow up with. You're better off." I kind of felt like a jerk for cutting him off, but at the same time, how many times has he done that to me or others?

He stared blankly for a moment, no doubt wondering if he should ask me, what deflection was. "Yeah. I've never thought of it that way."

Touché, Dash. I turned towards the field once more.

"What about you?" he asked the back of my head as the snow began to fall.

For a few seconds more, I was silent, "I died." He seemed dumbstruck by what this day meant to me, however, I continued on, a strange note of happiness in my voice, "It was the same day that you left home, in fact." I remembered him walking past my house, blood trickling down his cheek.

He seemed eager to hear more, so I obliged, "My parents forgot about Christmas," I said, feeling a spectral wave of melancholy leave my form, "Well, just for me. My sister said they started fighting while out shopping for me."

As I paused, he told me, "Sorry."

I waved a hand in dismissal, "Don't be." I floated up a few rows to sit next to him next to me, and then sat softly down; the thermos attached to my waist the metal of the bleachers causing a soft, deep "twang" to reverberate through the aluminum. I let out a sigh and continued, "My parents forgot. You didn't."

I watched him as he wracked his brains, "I didn't get you anything." I chuckled lightly.

"Nor would I have expected you to," I told him, an awkward smile plastered on my face, "You were a bully, after all. And a jock. Popular. I was the opposite. But, if you want, I can count you not tossing me in a locker on the last day before break as a gift." I attempted to make my smile more genuine.

"I'm sorry I did that to you."

I out right laughed, "Because I'm dead? Don't be. Still, thanks. I know you stopped doing it to others after I died."

He nodded, most likely having thought he was the reason I killed myself.

"Anyway, my parents got a gift for everyone, with the exception of myself. Obviously, I felt depressed after being forgotten during the holidays." I thought about that day for a moment, "Actually, they did try to give me something from the basement as I gift. It was left unwrapped, behind my dad's back.

Anyway, I locked myself in my room. I survived on water from my bathroom sink and some granola bars that had been under my socks."

I had his undivided attention at this point, though he did look at me curiously.

"I killed myself three weeks later," I said, feeling a true smile creep onto my face, "The funeral was nice. Hell, it was a funeral fit for a hedonist. Small turnout, but that was to be expected." I reminisced for some time before I noticed the snow had suddenly picked up, along with a no doubt chilly wind. I noted the redness of my audience's face; he no doubt wanted to go back inside where it was warm. I turned to him and he seemed to have a revelation, "I'll never forget you, Fentina." His grin couldn't possibly be any bigger.

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood now Dash." I laughed as I flew off towards downtown to walk my sister home, not minding that my moment of solitude had been shared.


End file.
